


an unlikely companion

by moirails



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Humanstuck, Implied/Referenced Suicide, VRISKA IS REALLY AWKWARD AT TIMES, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 03:37:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moirails/pseuds/moirails
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharing a bed with someone who just saved you from being torn apart by zombies has it's downsides, you suppose.<br/>For one, you're pretty sure if you tried anything she'd break your arm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	an unlikely companion

The woods have never been your friend, not even before this shitstorm happened, but now, when you're being chased by the undead (scrambling bodies at your heels, hands reaching out to grab you) it might just be a good idea to start befriending nature.

It's equal parts dangerous as it is helpful- it's easy to lose them running through the maze of trees but also easy to run into one of them as you're rounding a corner. You're not one to run away, not at all, but there's at least a dozen of them gaining on you and you have no choice, so you dive into the twisted mangle of bark.

You're nearly out of the woods (literally as well as figuratively) when a group of the damned things come out of the bushes ahead of you and then shit, you're surrounded. In a last ditch effort to save yourself, you start swinging the bat in your hands around and end up bashing a few skulls in the process. No use, though- a couple of swings later and all you've managed to do is barely make a dent in the group, and you're still surrounded.

Just when you're about to give up, lie down in the grass, let them tear you up, you see a ladder drop down from a tree out of the corner of your eye. Upon further (quick) inspection, you make out a tree house hidden behind thick leaves, and there's a girl leaning down and gesturing you to hurry up she doesn't have all day.

Not hesitating at all, you hurriedly bring down the bat on a few more zombies blocking your way and then scramble up the ladder once you've made it over there. Once you're done climbing, she wastes no time gathering up the rope and heaving the rest up behind you, and then once more the tree house is hidden away from view.

You're covered in blood that isn't yours and you smell terrible, but nevertheless you stick out your hand and give her a toothy grin. 

“Thanks for saving my ass!”

She ignores your outstretched hand and instead rolls her eyes before disappearing into the house once more, throwing a rag outside to you a moment later. 

“Clean yourself up before coming in here.”

You huff. What a bitch, you think, but take the rag anyways, because the zombie guts splattered across your shirt isn't exactly the best thing in the world, and OK, you really want to go inside now. You're absolutely sure you're not bitten (you don't get bitten, never) so you don't bother checking for bite marks, just rub the cloth against your shirt and rubbing away the hunks of flesh, making sure they make it back down to the ground and not up in the trees.

There is screaming from another part of the woods, and soon the corpses straggling beneath the tree you're located out shamble to their next free meal. You're glad it's not you down there.

 

Climbing to your feet once you're done cleaning yourself off, you examine your clothing. Your shirt is ripped to hell, but it's no big deal, because even before all this you weren't one for modesty, anyways. Your jeans are also covered in dirt but who isn't, these days, so instead of wasting your time loitering outside, you push the rickety door open to the house and enter the small space.  
The girl's sitting in the corner with a bored expression on her face, her legs crossed and a book in her lap. She only looks up for a second before giving you a nod of approval, then returning to her book. You awkwardly stand in the entrance, waiting for her to say something.  
“Uh.” You say after a moment, shifting from foot to foot. When she still doesn't say anything, you cross your arms haughtily and wonder what the hell is her problem, anyways.

“So you're not gonna waste your time talking to me? What the fuck's your problem?”

She raises a brow at you and looks at you with a slight smirk, and suddenly you feel as though you're making a complete fool out of yourself. Whatever. You're done talking, so you stomp towards the other side of the room and slide down to the floor, still giving her a dirty look. She's still looking at you too, and the eye contact is getting awkward. Great.

“No, don't stop, that was actually sort of amusing,” She sets her book down and rests her head against her hand, and you swear to god you are not going to take being belittled. 

You snort and stand up again, walking across the tiny space before you're looming over her, “What's the point in saving my damned life if you're going to ignore me?”

“I'm not ignoring you. In fact, I'm talking to you right this very second,” Right after she says it she opens up her book again, focusing her attention back down on the text. What the actual hell.

“You know what I mean,” You nearly yell, leaning down and snatching the book from her hands and flinging it across the room, “I'm trying to have a conversation with you and you're being a complete asshole.”

“How charming,” She replies coolly, her lips twisting upwards again, and you let out a frustrated groan, because she's literally the worst person you've ever met, ever. Maybe you're overreacting, maybe just a bit. Maybe.

“Just come on! I haven't talked to another person in I don't even know. Forever,” You run your hand through your long mane of hair and sigh again, “Just quit with the bullshit and talk to me like a normal human being.”

She pauses, like she's thinking about it, before she tsks and says, “Oh, fine. I'll humor you. So what is it you are oh so dying to talk about?”

Deciding to ignore her snarkiness, you slide down in front of her, once more on the floor. 

“What's your name, for one,” You ask, and then she already scoffs and look like she's going to say something sarcastic again, so you cut her off,”It's a question. Just answer it.”

“My name is Rose. But that hardly matters now, does it? The dead walk among the living and you are seriously desperate to learn names, now that is quite something.”

“Ugh, are you one of those people who gives up all hope of things returning to normal one day? Give me a break--”

“I answer you after endless prodding and now you're criticizing my responses? You really are charming!” She quips, and you swear your eyes are going to roll straight out of their sockets with the way you just rolled them.

“Just. Screw you.”

You're about to give up with the conversation before she asks you a question, “What's your name, then?”

“Vriska.”

She's quiet for a moment, letting the answer simmer out there, and you wonder if she's just going to shut up for the rest of forever, now, but she smiles gently, “A nice name.” Holy shit she sounds genuine for once.

.

The sky outside is dark, but the tree house didn't have windows to begin with, so its no real loss. Rose turns on a battery operated lamp that sits on a lone desk near the entrance and you let your eyes adjust before you examine the room, something you should've done when you first entered instead of coercing answers out of her.

You've been in silence for the last few hours; Rose had gone back to reading after talking to her for a bit, and you decided you'd distance yourself for a while and go sit on the boards outside. When you'd had enough of the constant wind battering you around and the distant screams of travelers, you'd soon gone back inside and plopped yourself down next to her.

There's not much in the room, just a few old bookshelves, a few old crates, and that desk. She'd stockpiled numerous essentials inside of those, apparently. From the looks of her you'd think she'd be more organized, but there are several books strewn across the wood floors, and the makeshift “bed” (a sheet and a lumpy pillow) is a mess. What a tool, honestly.

All in all, it's a pretty comfortable place to be holed up, despite the cold.

“Shit, how do you not freeze to death in here?”

She looks up at you and closes her book before getting up and heading towards the bed. “The sheet's really all I have, and this,” She gestures down to an item on the floor, before picking it up and slipping it over her head. It's an oversized hoodie with a shitty joke about zombies on it (how ironic), but it looks cute on her or whatever, so you let it slide.

“Nice,” you mutter, because that doesn't help you at all, so you push past her and flop down on the raggedy sheet. You're just getting comfortable when she pulls you up by the collar, “What the hell? You are not sleeping in that filthy shirt--”

You're about to argue that what the hell I don't have anything else to put on, before she snatches another item of clothing off the floor and nearly shoves it in your arms basically. You sigh and lift the shirt off of your head and put whatever the hell she just handed on you.

“Aw, we're domestic already,” You snicker, and she rolls her eyes, before scooting over on what you guess is her side of the bed. The hoodie she gave you is not quite as big as the one she has on- you're taller than her- but you get the feeling these aren't hers. 

You slump down onto your side of the bed and again, it's really awkward. There's virtually no space, but at least you're warm. At least.

“Hey,” You mutter, when sleep is clinging to your eyes, when things have finally settled down.

“What,” She snaps, and then rolls over to face you, “Sorry. Just. What do you want now?”

“How'd you end up in this tree house, anyways? Did you find it? Steal it?”

It's silent for a few moments, but then, “No. It was me and my brother's. Always has been.”

You don't ask where her brother is now, because that's how things usually are, when death happens every day, when you lose the ones you care about. You shut your mouth and you fall asleep to the sound of the wind howling outside.

**Author's Note:**

> John/Karkat will be background in later chapters.


End file.
